D Bomb
by Shreek
Summary: Steph's got a daughter, known as D. She's run away from home, but what will she do when things take a turn for the worse? Will she swallow her pride and go back? And what will Steph do to get her back? A reworked story, has some Babe but mostly Cupcake.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – Intro to D's Story**

_**Disclaimer:**__** The characters in this story belong to Story Legend Janet Evanovich (apart from D, who is of my own creation).**_

**[D POV]:**

The stench was awful. Actually, it was damn near unbearable. And the darkness that surrounded me? Plain. Old. Creepy. I couldn't see a thing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. The thing was only a few metres long, couple of metres wide and yet I could still feel the walls closing in on me. I hate dumpsters, I really do. I mean, sure, they're useful and all. But with my odd jobs and pastimes, I tend to have to get a lot more close and personal than the average Joe. 'Close and personal' as in 'stuck sitting in one for hours on end for my own protection', like right now.

Maybe I should introduce myself. Hi, I'm Darcy, and I'm almost 17. My full name is Darcy Ellen Plum-Manoso. D for short. My life is kind of complicated, especially right now. So it's probably best to start from the _very_ beginning.

Okay, so my mum is the (apparently) infamous Stephanie Plum of the Burg. I'm not sure why she's infamous. Grandma Plum seems particularly opposed to my knowing, so for the most part when I've asked the topic has been avoided. I assume the way my parents met is part of it too since they don't talk about that much either. Not that I'd ask. 'Cause I'm sure they'd embellish the story. Ergo the story would be phony. Well, to be fair, Dad wouldn't embellish it. He probably wouldn't say anything. Bastard.

Speaking of which, I haven't told you about him.

My dad is the mysterious "Batman" Ranger of God only knows where. Though some of his staff believes he's of Hispanic decent or something. I don't know and don't particularly care. A) Because history and cultures really ain't my thing; and B) Dad and I don't really get along. Like, at all.

My parents didn't get married, for reasons unknown. If I were a wagering person, I'd say it was probably because of my dad. Again, my families weren't exactly forthcoming with that information.

Anyways, a while after I was born, Mum married Trenton plainclothes cop Joseph Morelli. He's cool. And now I have two younger half-brothers and two younger half-sisters. The eldest, Matthew is 5 years; the twins William and Emma are 3 years; and the youngest Eloise is 8 months.

Dad never married. I don't know whether it's because he's in love with mum or because he just _doesn't do relationships_. You never can tell with him. I have another half sister on his side of the family and she's a lot older than me. Eight or nine years, I think. Her name's Kate and she's a real goody-goody-two-shoes. Once, on one of my first large distance runaway attempts, I turned up at her house for the night. When I woke up dad was there. Can you believe that? Seriously, it was going to be just for the night. It's not like I was planning on crashing on her couch for months and bumming food and stuff off her. It really sucked and I've _soooo_ never done that again.

So, here I am, stuck in the middle of these two families. Making me the oldest in one, and the youngest in the other. This kind of isn't really an easy place to be.

Especially when you have to swap homes every week.

Every first week I spend with mum and Joe. The house is pretty small with all of us there. And loud. Though, I'm sure that my little sibs, being the shenanigans that they are, could be loud individually. They certainly have enough shouting matches with Mum and Joe. I am confident that none of them can shout or scream louder than me. Of course, I've never had the chance to fully test that theory, seeing as little baby Ellie was born after I left.

And then every second week I spend with dad. Getting up extra early to train in the gym. Having my days divided into a precisely timed schedules. Not being allowed to eat anything unhealthy, desserts included. It sucked, but unknown to him, Ella sneaks me unhealthy snacks. Not all the time, just every now and then. It's the only way I'd survive.

There are lots of rules I have to follow there that are different to the rules with Mum and Joe. It gets very confusing.

Now that you've caught up some I should probably get back to the present.

As you know, I am sitting in a dumpster. Why am I in a dumpster? I'm hiding from some guy I conned a fair chunk of money out of.

I kind of told him I was 19, and since I do actually look older than I am no one really argues that point. I also told him that he had to pay upfront for my services. Bodily services if you know what I mean. He did, and well, I of course had no intention of giving him those services. I didn't really think the slob was sober enough, healthy enough nor fast enough to come after me, let alone chase me half way across the town. I mean when the shit hits the fan, it really hits the fan.

Since I couldn't run to the police without exposing my con, I ended up running and running and running. Of course, things probably wouldn't be this bad if I hadn't inadvertently run into More-Sober-Than-I-Thought-Man's own neighbourhood where he has a lot more friends than I do. Who are a lot more sober and bigger and have more scars than he does. Not a good thing I can tell you. So I pulled my disappearing act. One of the more tricky protection tactics I learnt, since you have to get far enough away from whoever's following you to pull it, and I hadn't pulled it sooner because I'd underestimated him. Bummer, right?

Well, it was one of the things Dad (see: the Merry Men) taught me. And I happen to be good at. This disappearing act, unfortunately led me to hopping into the dumpster. Now I'm cramped, sore, completely freaked out. I _hate_ the dark. Loathe it. I'm the only almost seventeen year old I know who sleeps with a nightlight. And to top this situation off, I have no freaking idea how I'm going to get out of this.

Its times like these I wish that the Merry Men _would_ find me and take me home. I suppose if I hadn't run away quite so often I wouldn't get into these situations. In my defense, I would like to state that I only run away when I'm staying with dad. Call it a silent protest if you will. He deserves it.

It was a few years ago when I was at Mum's house, and I had actually been responsible for doing something incredibly stupid but also incredibly hilarious that Joe had told me that sometimes he wished I was his daughter. Of course at the time I laughed it off telling him that 'he lied, not to lie, and lying is wrong'. Joe being Joe responded that I lie more than he does. Which isn't true, you know. I don't lie; I fabricate tales dissimilar to the truth. Then he told me that when I was a baby and Mum was about to marry him, he had asked Ranger to let him adopt me. All so I didn't have to go through the whole two homes, split holidays and custody crap, and could have a normal family life as Joe's daughter.

Obviously dad said no. This _probably,_ though I'm not absolutely certain, had something to do with him not being able to raise his first daughter Kate. I got kind of pissed over it 'cause I really wanted a normal life. I was tired of being bounced from one house to the other. I _wanted_ to be Joe's daughter. To always be around to play with my baby bro, and later my other baby sibs too. I ran away next time I was at Dad's.

Needless to say, I didn't get very far. Obviously it was not the last time I ran away. And each time I did it I got dragged home by Dad's Merry Men. And each time I got better at it and managed to disappear for longer. I've been gone for almost two years now and still no Merry Men to drag me home kicking and screaming.

Of course this last time I got smart, and just a tad cruel. I figured out a way to avoid being put on the missing persons list.

Emancipation.

Basically it's a divorce from your parents making you your own legal guardian. I didn't want to do that to Mum. But it was the only way to stop Dad from controlling my life, with the added bonus of; if I decided to leave the cops can't come after me. Which might not be a good thing, currently, considering this situation I'm in.

A situation that just got worse.

The light poured in as the dumpster's lid was thrown open. An evil, grinning, much scarred face looked down on me. It was not a pretty sight either, I can tell you, I'm talking _really _mangled. Before I could say _oh shit!_ I was hauled out, quite unceremoniously if I do say so myself, and dragged to my feet. Scar Face held me up, my tippy toes barely touching the ground. He then thrust me out to More-Sober-Than-I-Thought-Man. Well to be honest I couldn't actually distinguish him visually because my eyes were still adjusting to the light outside the dumpster, but his voice gave him away. It was very gravelling, but not in a sexy way. Just gross. And to tell the truth I wasn't really listening to what he was saying, or maybe I just couldn't understand. He was slurring words really badly. My God, how on earth could he run if he couldn't talk? Even without the words to confirm it I could tell something bad was going to happen to me. People don't just chase you across town and have scarred thugs drag you out of dumpsters for a light slap on the wrist, _especially_ if you have their money.

Then, More-Sober-Than-I-Thought-Man grinned evilly. Not a pretty sight, with his rotting teeth and all.

My eyes had half adjusted to the light when the first punch hit me. In the stomach. It knocked the air out of me and stars danced before my eyes. Then second punch hit me, which wasn't quite as hard, but it still kept the air from filling my lungs. It kept going like this, with punches to my face included now and then, until I was barely conscious. I'm not sure how I kept my eyes open. They felt swollen and gritty, but I saw what happened next anyway. More-Sober-Than-I-Thought-Man fell down it a crumpled heap in front of me, and Scar Face dropped me suddenly as he fell too.

Just before my head hit the ground, rendering me unconscious, a single thought flew through my mind. _Please God, let it be the Merry Men._

###

The moment I opened my eyes again, quite the feat since they were swollen and the blood had almost dried them shut, I realized I was in some fancy hotel. Hospitals aren't this pretty. I should know, I've been in them enough from some of my stupider stunts. Then it hit me. It sent me reeling almost as much as the punches had. I was in deep shit. The Merry Men wouldn't take me to a hotel. And if they did, they would have at least cleaned up my face. I could feel the dried blood cracking as a grimaced in pain.

I tried to sit up, but couldn't. Pain traveled around my body again and again. Unbearable, agonizing pain, that left me breathless. Catching my breath again I waited for the pain to die. I sat up slower this time, stopping before the pain got unbearable. And by the time I had fully sat up, a man had strolled into the room and was watching me. I recognized him instantly, and knew from the expression on his face that I was in deeper shit than I could ever imagine.

"Good morning, Darcy dear".

**[AUTHOR'S NOTE:]**_**Hey, howdy, hey. This is a reworked story. I was talking with my bestie Svendances (author of "**_**Twice as Much as Half**_**", it's really awesome, you should read it) the other day about fanfics and we started talking about D Bomb which I'd written YEARS ago but never finished. I went and found it so I could continue, but before I did I reread what I had. "Ye Gads!" I thought "I can do better than that!" So now instead of just continuing it as planned, here I am re-editing, re-writing and re-releasing the whole thing. **_

_**Tell me what you think. Lay in all on me. Review, I dare you!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Greetings!**

**[Back Home]:**

_Greetings! You wouldn't believe the stuff I've been up to. It's great!_

_I've spent the last couple of weeks in a job where I run around to shops finding bargains! A friend introduced me to it._

_All I have to do is get my checklist and go to as many shops as I can and check prices and write them down then decide where the best place to shop is! And the lists aren't all that big either. I get maybe five items to find in a day, which means I can do pretty much anything. Of course I'm moving again soon, but I've got quite a bit of money saved and I can get a job almost any where now. My résumé is massive! And even though most time the job is crap; the pay is usually good, especially when you're willing to work all hours._

_How are things at home? I hope the little shenanigans aren't driving you too crazy. Matt will be starting school soon won't he? Or is that next year? Maybe I'll stop by sometime. Next year that is. When I'm 18 and dad won't treat me so much like a little kid anymore, hopefully. Give Joe and the kids my love. Tell them I promise I'll bring them all something when I come back. You too mum._

_Love D._

Stephanie read the letter through twice. Then again, and again. She couldn't find any hints that would giveaway where her eldest daughter had been living. It had no return address, though that wasn't a surprise, Darcy was always careful when she wrote. It tore Steph inside, her emotions were so conflicted. She desperately wanted her daughter back. The thought that D was out there all alone made her want to cry. Her daughter should be safe at home dammit! And it hurt so bad, that D had felt running away was necessary.

But then there was another part of her. The part that made Steph become a bounty-hunter, despite the hardships, all those years ago. This part understood why D took off. She didn't back Darcy's actions by any length, but she understood. It was that part of Steph that worried that D would accidentally let something slip and lead Ranger directly to her. That part of her that was angry, so angry, at herself for not be able to protect her baby. And it was that part of her that would go after D herself. Without Rangers help, if she ever received a hint of her whereabouts. She might trust Ranger with her own life and with the lives of her children. She might even still love him, but she would never again trust him to be _just_ when giving punishments. His perception of bad or unacceptable behaviour must be skewed. She knew he'd had a rough childhood. Perhaps it had affected him more than what she'd originally thought? Bad childhood or not, what he'd done was unacceptable. She would never allow it to happen again.

This had happened when Darcy had been little, but Steph hadn't found out until D was older.

Apparently Ranger considered still being afraid of the dark at her age as unacceptable behaviour, even though it was common for other five year-olds. He believed that people should work to get over such fears as soon as possible. He also believed that to do so, you must confront your fear head on. Ranger loved his daughter; he thought he was helping her by teaching her the facts of life so she'd be stronger for it when she grew up. What he didn't count on was her obstinate nature. She was always such a stubborn child. Definitely a Plum trait. And when she refused to cooperate Ranger punished her, forcing her to do as he wanted. Rather than easing her off her nightlight Darcy was locked in a small room, with blackout curtains and shutters and the lights disabled. She was told that until she could sit without fear or tears in the dark room she would stay there. This proceeded several times a day for at least half hour periods. Fortunately Darcy was always quick to learn and soon could sit quietly and still in the room. Even though she was still terrified inside.

Unfortunately there were side effects to her treatment, as there always seems to be when a child is treated thus. The first, she'd learnt to hide her emotions. Steph often wanted to kick herself because of it. She'd assumed, like most others that D was just a very well behaved child. Maybe even a little shy, and of course, that she was just trying to emulate her much "beloved" father. People called it cute and adorable, but Steph always felt she should have known. After all, little children shouldn't share traits with hardened soldiers. It's unhealthy.

The second effect was the addition of being afraid of small enclosed spaces. It was a common enough fear, along with being afraid of the dark. With D opening her curtain at night, letting the light from the street lamp brighten her room, and leaving her bedroom door open so she wasn't enclosed, Steph never realized how bad it was for her daughter. She felt terrible. Awful. She so wanted her daughter to talk to her about her problems. But D never did.

And last, but certainly not least, D learnt to distrust her father. She started to despise him. And Steph believed, she began to look for reasons to spite him. Even as a little girl she'd act out as much as possible when with him. Her acts of rebellion had continued all these years, despite Ranger 'taking care of it'. Fortunately these rebellions had more to do with annoying Ranger and impeding any activity he intended to do rather than the self destructive types of rebellions. Mostly.

The emancipation and the drawn out disappearing act was the crème de le crème of a long string of _In your face dad!_ gestures.

Steph would receive a letter every time D moved on to a new place. It was partly a reminder to Ranger that he had to start all over again in his perpetual search. But it had just as much to do with that as staying in touch with her Mother and to letting them know she was okay.

Steph read it once again, still not finding any hints. Then handed it to Joe, and she watched anxiously as he read it through and smiled to himself. The smile was probably for the "shenanigans" reference.

"What do you reckon?" Steph asked, biting her lip. A nervous habit she'd developed.

"If she's let anything slip I sure as hell can't tell" he stated flatly. Steph gave Joe a wry smile. Both relief and sadness coursed through her. He hadn't acted like a cop, which meant he couldn't discern any slips or hints either.

"I'd love to have her job," Steph stated on a sigh, lightening the mood, "all day shopping, everyday."

"Forget it!" he cried laughingly. "You'd have spent your pay before you even got it!"

Steph gave him a playful punch in the arm and picked up the letter, running her fingers across the near illegible scrawl. She'd give _anything_ to hug her eldest daughter again.

She stood slowly, folding the letter gently. Joe stood as well, wrapping an arm around her waist and giving her a light kiss. They began making their way upstairs to their young children. It might have been well past their sons and daughters bedtime, but they were like vampires when a letter from D arrived. They were all too young to actually remember her, but Steph and Joe made sure that they knew they had a loving big sister. They told them stories about her and always, always read her letters to them.

Joe squeezed Steph tighter. He loved her with all his heart and cared for Darcy as if she were one of his own brood. He understood why Steph worried about Ranger finding D. It had taken all his strength, and Steph gripping his arm firmly, to hold him back from beating the man to a living pulp when they'd found out about the 'fear of the dark' issue. He burned with anger over it. Any respect Joe had had for the man disintegrated then and there. But what stung even more was they had no solid proof it had happened and to know that no matter what, despite _everything_ Ranger would make sure he always had half custody of D.

Joe was snapped out of his dark thoughts upon entering Matt's bedroom. Admittedly it's hard to think when one is greeted with an extremely loud shout of "WHAT DID SHE SAY?"

In a matter of seconds the rest of the brood scurried through the door and joined in the cry. Except for Ellie who, having been in her crib sleeping soundly, was now wailing in the other room. Looking at each other and giving a single understanding nod Joe and Steph split. Steph sat on the edge of the Matt's bed; where the brood all sat eager to hear from D, and Joe left to calm the crying Ellie.

Steph smiled at their eager expressions and her heart swelled, before unfolding the letter to read it aloud.

****

Ranger had known the instant the letter had arrived. He'd had cameras planted around the outside of Joe's house ever since Darcy had started regularly sending letters there. Usually there was a month between the letters, sometimes it was longer. When Steph had first showed him the letters, he'd thought Joe might've had it edited before showing him. That's why he'd set up the cameras. So he could check it before they'd read it. It didn't take him long to realize that they didn't need to edit them. The content of the letters was basic, always following the same pattern.

Informing them about her last job. Well, the last 'official' job. Ranger suspected she was also getting money illegally. Probably using schemes and conning people.

Stating that she was moving again. Whether it was city hopping or state hopping he didn't know.

Asked a few questions about how their lives were going, despite knowing they can't send a reply,

And in most cases, a snide remark aimed at him.

He knew Darcy held a grudge against him. It had something to do with havinga_ normal family_, though he had never quite understood what she'd meant. He assumed it was a teenage girl thing.

With a mental shake of his head he concentrated back on the screen in front of him. When Darcy had started running away Ranger had converted one of the spare rooms into a Situation/ Surveillance Room. The room itself didn't hold much; a few TV screens, a computer and laptop, a table and a bar fridge.

His eyes focused on the movement inside one of the windows. With a single click he zoomed in and enhanced the image. He could make out Steph's silhouette. Something in his stomach churned with desire. He'd always desired her, despite her uncanny ability to attract danger, and suspected he always would. She was his woman. There would never be anyone else for him. Ever.

Taking note of the silhouette beside her Ranger felt bile rise up at the back of his throat with angry jealousy. Joseph Morelli. Ranger's foe. The man who could freely love Ranger's woman. His hatred for the man was intense. But not as intense as the hatred Ranger held for himself.

It was his fault. He had sent Steph back to Morelli, even though she was pregnant with his child. He knew he could never be the man Steph _needed_. Wanted? Yes. Needed? No. Perhaps Morelli could. What Ranger hadn't expected was that they would thrive as a married couple. He never _wanted_ them to thrive as a married couple. He hoped that the relationship would continue the way it had before they'd wed. A constant seesaw; one with Joe on one end and Ranger on the other. A situation where Steph would come running into his arms whenever Morelli stuffed up. He could deal with that. Cause then Morelli would only have her part time. Things hadn't worked out like that. Once they were wed, they were _wed_. He really should have known that Steph wouldn't cheat on Morelli, not after the disaster of her first marriage.

Then Ranger had assumed that by not letting Joe adopt his little Darcy that the connection between him and Steph would stay strong. But it hadn't, she became more wary of being alone with him. He hoped it was because she still loved him, but soon that hope faded. With each time she gave birth to a Morelli child, she became less and less something of Rangers and fell more and more in love with Joe. She didn't care for Ranger anymore, only for D and Joe and their family together.

It'd hurt more than anything he'd ever felt before. He reminded himself, at the time of this realization that he still had Darcy. He loved her. He cared for his Darcy, perhaps more so than he did his other daughter Kate. He knew this and accepted this as fact. Being a family man had never been part of his life's plan. Raised as one of six rowdy boys with an overstressed mother and absentee father had an adverse effect on him. It was one of the reasons he never did relationships, not even with Steph. He had had no part in raising Kate, and could find little likeness between them. But with Darcy, he had spent lots of time raising her, teaching her and he could see himself in her. In the way she acted, the way she spoke, the way she spite him. They were too alike for her not to know what would make him tic. To make him feel stupid, inattentive and foolish. That's why she had gotten emancipated. There would be no cops to follow her, flashing her picture about. No cops searching for clues. No legal leads he could follow. And the letters were also a reminder to him, that she could be anywhere and he would have to start searching over again. He wanted her to make a mistake, despite the odd glow of pride that she hadn't yet, to slip up and do something unwise, write something by mistake in a letter that would lead him to her, so he could bring her back and feel the fulfillment of finishing a mission.

She was his daughter after all, the greatest thing his life and he wouldn't give her up lightly.

**[AUTHOR'S NOTE:]**_**As Travellinggift noted I've called Ranger's other daughter (the one actually from the books) Kate when her name in the books is actually Julie. It wasn't deliberate, when I first wrote this story years ago the book that revealed Ranger's daughter's name had not yet been released (that or I hadn't read it yet…). So in my story her name is Kate. Also, as you've probably noticed D isn't in this chapter at all, so I would like to warn you now that I do quite often jump around between characters and I'll try to indicate at the top of the chapter or section whether it's D's POV or whether its set elsewhere (as I had complaints last time when I didn't indicate). **_

_**I DARE YOU TO REVIEW! If you don't like it FLAME ME. I don't take offense easily, so don't be shy!**_


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